


A Good Deed

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Language, mentions of theft.<br/>Summary: Remus is dragging Sirius on a mission, but it all goes terribly haywire...<br/>Prompt: 21) If you are going through hell, keep going. ~ Winston Churchill</p><p>Written for Livejournal rs_games 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Deed

“Sirius,” Remus muttered under his breath, glaring at him as he lit up.  
“What?” Sirius asked, his cigarette stuck to his lips as he spoke. “You can smoke on the Underground.”  
“But you shouldn't! It's a death trap!”  
“You were the one that wanted to use it,” Sirius pointed out, and struck a match.  
  
Remus looked determinedly away, trying to pretend that if he didn't see the act, it wasn't happening.  
  
“You know I'm not well enough to apparate,” he murmured, feeling resentment building in his chest that the full moon had fallen so close to Christmas.  
  
The noise of the train was almost deafening as it thundered through the tunnels of the system, wheels squealing and rails clanking beneath them as they hurried by. That morning he'd seriously had to toss up the odds on whether he wanted to feel even worse by apparating or put up with Sirius moaning about a sojourn on the London Underground.  
  
When he'd nearly thrown up with nausea after walking down the stairs, he'd opted for the whinging. Technically he shouldn't have even been out of bed, and he felt sure that his mother would have killed him had she known, but it was nearly Christmas, and if there was one thing that Remus loved, it was Christmas and Christmas shopping.  
  
Even more so, he faced his first Christmas with enough money to be able to spoil his family, and his friends.  
  
 _And Sirius._  
  
It had been just over a year since they had left Hogwarts and he was surprised that it felt so long ago. On leaving, it felt like their lives might end without the strict routine of their daily school life, without uniforms and without homework. Quickly they had learnt otherwise --responsibility had been a harsh teacher, harsh enough to rival even the most stalwart of Hogwarts professors. Just putting aside enough for the rent every month had been a hard enough task. Remus recalled a flaming argument because Sirius had spent his portion of the money on beer. Remus had scraped the extra together and they'd lived on toast for the entire month to get by.  
  
They'd come a long way since then, and he was glad, because a werewolf needed more than toast alone to recover from a transformation.  
  
“How many more bloody stops on this thing?” Sirius asked, his irritation plain in his voice. He exhaled a plume of smoke and stared at Remus, waiting for him to answer.  
  
Sirius was dressed in his usual long dark coat, tight flared jeans and a t-shirt which seemed to cling to his every muscle. The scarf that Remus had forced around his neck before they'd left the flat was wholly out of place on the cool, lounging man. He couldn't help but smile looking at the lurid stripes of the scarf his mother had knitted.  
  
“Stop looking at the scarf.”  
“I'm not,” Remus lied. “Two more stops. Can you handle that?”  
“Let's get off and walk?” Sirius pleaded, looking hopeful as a station burst into light around them as they came out of a tunnel.  
  
Remus sighed.  
  
“Please?” Sirius mouthed, and puckered his lips in a secretive little kiss as a sweetener.  
  
Remus got to his feet.  
  
***  
  
The wind was bitter as they walked down Oxford Street. Remus' arms were tucked tightly around his body, chin tucked to his chest, trying to keep the cold out.  
  
“Whose bright idea was this?” Sirius asked, through clenched teeth.  
“You need shopping too,” Remus dismissed. “Fuck it, let's just go in here.”  
“In here?” Sirius stopped, looking up at the elegantly dressed windows. “Bit expensive, don't you think?”  
  
Remus didn't care if the shop floor was lined with gold. His legs were about to give in. He pushed through a swing door and nearly moaned as the warmth engulfed him. Sirius followed, bringing with him a final gust of cold air, and then they were in. Immediately Remus knew why Sirius had protested, seeing the gleaming floor and well-lit make-up and perfume counters. They would be way out of their depth and price range, but it was warm.  
  
“Sir, can I interest you in a spray of-”  
“No thank you,” Remus said, with his politest smile, hurrying past a well-suited man who was brandishing a bottle of aftershave. “I don't wear aftershave.”  
“The ladies would love this!” the man continued, a suggestive smile on his face.  
  
Remus winced at Sirius' undisguised snort of laughter and shook his head apologetically.  
  
“What about you?” the man asked, turning to Sirius, who with his gleaming hair, high cheekbones and height exuded a kind of refined breeding that Remus would never be able to carry off.  
“No thanks, I've already got some on. Eau le Mongrel.”  
  
Sniggering, Sirius grabbed Remus' arm and pulled him further into the shop, away from the bewildered looking sales assistant.  
  
“You're so bad,” Remus breathed, allowing Sirius to pull him into a space filled with more handbags than he had ever seen in his life.  
“But I'm so much better when I'm bad. I'm boring when I'm good...”  
“Like me, you mean?” Remus asked.  
“Don't put words in my mouth.” Sirius pulled a face. “What are we going to buy?”  
“We can't afford anything in here!” Remus hissed. “I bet this stuff is more than a week's wages.”  
“So?” Sirius shrugged.  
  
Remus stared at him; there were times, he thought, when Sirius forgot that he no longer lived at home, and that his wealth was no longer a disposable thing. They lived quite comfortably on their wages and Sirius' inheritance from his Uncle Alphard, but there was no room to push the boat out. Remus was afraid to. He knew the realities of his curse -if he lost his job, they would rely on that money to live.  
  
“Your mum would like this,” Sirius suggested, his voice soft.  
  
He was fingering a silk scarf, which was artfully knotted as it hung from a hook on a metal stand. It was of a pale pink colour with white flower detail.  
  
“She would,” Remus agreed ruefully.  
“Well then, that's your mum sorted,” Sirius announced, pulling it from the stand and running it through his fingers.  
“How much is it?”  
“Doesn't matter. I'll buy it.” Sirius grinned at him. “While we're in this bit we should get Lily something, what d'you think? Something for her, I mean... she's pregnant so...”  
“Something for the baby?” Remus suggested.  
“No, something for her,” Sirius ruled. “Everyone will be buying her things for the baby. She needs something to make her feel good.”  
“You're so good with the ladies,” Remus observed. “Wonder how you ended up gay?”  
“Too many dirty magazines.” Sirius sighed and shook his head. “What about something for the bath?”  
“James'll steal it.”  
  
Sirius snorted and Remus enjoyed how his eyes sparkled in the lovely lights of the shop.  
  
“I thought you said that Christmas shopping would be hell?” he asked, following Sirius as he began to drift back towards the perfume counters.  
“It is,” Sirius retorted calmly. “But... it's preferable to the war going on at the minute.”  
“So it's a better kind of hell than the one we're experiencing on a weekday, is that what you're saying?”  
“Yep.”  
“And so you're...”  
“Getting on it with, yes.” Sirius looked over his shoulder at Remus, and smiled. “When have you ever known me not to keep on going, Remus?”  
“Never,” Remus said, fairly.  
“Well then. This is going to be the bloody shopping trip of your life, Remus John Lupin. No expense spared. You want to give presents, we'll give fucking amazing presents, because, let's face it, this time next year we might be too dead to give presents and we'll feel hard done by.”  
“Planning on hanging around, are you?” Remus asked, trying to bury the horror which rose in him whenever Sirius spoke so casually of the death which could be coming for them.  
“Might haunt you for a bit.” Sirius grinned. “Scare the daylights out of you whilst you're having a shit, that sort of thing.”  
“At least I'll be in the right place,” Remus muttered, pretending to concentrate on the bottles of aftershave as they passed.  
  
Sirius shot him an appreciative smile and they continued walking.  
  
“Oh shit, it's Mister Happy-Test-My-Disgusting-Aftershave,” Sirius said suddenly. “Quick. Let's get the fuck out of here.”  
“But the scarf!” Remus protested looking at it dangling from Sirius' fingers.  
“Bugger.”  
  
Sirius looked down at it too, his eyes narrowing. His lips curled into a devious smile and he suddenly huddled close to Remus, so close that their chests pressed together. Too late Remus realised what he was doing -stuffing the silken scarf into the front of Remus' coat, which was still buttoned up, and therefore easier to hide something in.  
  
Before he could protest, Sirius had gone again and was heading for the door. Heart pounding in his throat, Remus blindly followed, terrified to stop and terrified to go on.  
  
He had never stolen anything before in his life. The cool air of the winter outside brushed over his face as Sirius pulled open the door. He held it open for Remus and gestured to him to go first with his arm. Remus did so. He felt like he was going to throw up. Sirius joined him and they began to walk away, side by side, saying nothing. The scarf felt like red hot embers buried in the lining of Remus' coat.  
  
“What the fuck?” he whispered desperately as they sped up, trying to put as much distance between them and the shop as they could without running.  
“I don't know.”  
  
Remus looked at him and saw that he was grinning almost madly. His cheeks were red and his eyes were bright. Remus knew that look on Sirius, it was his exhilarated look, when something had been a massive rush and he had thoroughly enjoyed it.  
  
“You've just turned me into a thief.” Remus hissed the words, his anger twisting his tone and his guts at the same time.  
“Oh, for Godric's sake, it's just a scarf.” Sirius laughed. The sound was loud and carefree. Nobody turned to look at them.  
“I'm going to take it back,” Remus announced, turning on his heel.  
  
Sirius' hand clapped onto his shoulder and dragged him back.  
  
“You can't,” he complained. “They'll catch you putting it back. You've got it now, Remus.”  
“I don't want it.” Remus shook his head.  
“What's the matter with you?” Sirius asked, blinking with confusion. “Just a bit of fun, that's all.”  
“I've never stolen anything in my life,” Remus muttered, staring at his feet. “Even when mum and dad couldn't afford the potions to look after me and we didn't have a lot to eat.”  
“So? You're a good boy, I'm a bad boy.” Sirius shrugged, looking annoyed.  
“I intended to stay one,” Remus said pointedly. “You've just made me steal something and I feel... dirty.”  
  
Suddenly, he felt far too tired to be in the middle of London, three days away from Christmas and only two days after a full moon. He wondered if his exhaustion showed on his face, because Sirius stepped forward and touched his arm.  
  
“You okay, Moony?”  
“No. Take the fucking scarf.”  
  
Sirius said nothing as his fingers slipped inside the front of Remus' coat and tugged the scarf out. It fluttered slightly in the breeze. They both looked at it, the traitorous object that had ruined their day out.  
  
“Why does this bother you?” Sirius asked, his voice low.  
  
Shoppers milled about them, shooting them furtive glances, trying to see what they were doing.  
  
“We've done far worse than nick a scarf from a shop,” Sirius went on. “We've put people in danger before. We've been fighting Death Eaters lately. And here you are getting all miserable over a bloody scarf.”  
“I don't need to steal!” Remus hissed. “I've got money. I want to pay for things and buy things for people and know that I paid for it with money earned by my own work. I've never been able to do that before because of what I am. In seventh year, you worked in Gambol and Japes because you could. I was too ill. I've never had money before, and it might just come from Dumbledore and the odd Saturday in the book shop, but it's mine, and I just want to spend it, alright?”  
  
Sirius stared at him, his grey eyes unreadable. Remus waited with colour rising in his cheeks, immediately ashamed of his outburst but not really wanting to take any of it back, for it had been the truth.  
  
“We've been through everything together,” Sirius said, his tone soft. “Everything, since we were eleven. Even the things you didn't want me to be with you through. We've had loads of firsts together and this is just another one.”  
“What, my first descent into common thievery?”  
  
Sirius laughed and then, as if it were a lozenge which settled within his torso and began to melt, Remus felt his tension disperse. He laughed too and shook his head.  
  
“You really are a bad boy, though. A hogyn ddrwg, as my Nain would say?”  
“A what now?”  
“She's Welsh,” Remus reminded him. “Hogyn ddrwg is Welsh for 'bad boy'.”  
“I love it when you get all bilingual on me.” Sirius had a cheeky grin on his face. “When you talk to me in tongues.”  
  
Dark eyebrows waggled and Remus laughed again  
  
“You're impossible.”  
“What are we going to do with this? I know you won't give it to your bloody mother now.” Sirius held up the scarf.  
  
As they both stared at it, a cold drizzle of rain began to fall.  
  
“Fuck it. Let's go for lunch and decide later?” Sirius suggested.  
  
Remus' stomach gave a loud rumble, and decided for him.  
  
***  
  
“I could complain that you're forcing me into a stereotypical role,” Sirius commented, as they made their way back to the underground station.  
  
Remus smirked, looking at the man who was carrying several bags and had the good sense not to complain about it _too_ bitterly.  
  
“That you've just dragged me out and spent all my money and now you're making me suffer more by carrying the bloody lot...”  
“You were the one that suggested buying my Dad a new briefcase,” Remus reminded him. “Should have thought about the weight.”  
  
Sirius muttered something indecipherable beneath his breath and Remus snorted, not even bothering to ask him to repeat it.  
  
“Brilliant!”  
“What?” he asked, nonplussed.  
  
He cried out in shock as Sirius thrust all the bags at him and walked away. The bag of baby toys they'd been unable to resist buying for their best friends' unborn baby bounced on the pavement. He had to work hard to keep his eyes on Sirius as he meandered through the crowds heading for the station, but he managed to track him to the wall, where he bent down.  
  
Remus nearly melted when he saw what his stupid, boisterous lover was doing. Sirius Black was bent over a homeless woman, a beautifully charming smile on his face. From his coat he produced the scarf and handed it to her, placing it into her hand, the fingers which were reddened with cold as they poked out of the end of her fingerless gloves.  
  
Sirius was on his way back before Remus could even register that the bag of baby toys was still on the floor. The brunet stooped and snatched them up, hooking the handles over his wrist before beginning to take the rest of the bags back from Remus' hold. He was fully laden again before Remus could speak.  
  
“I know,” Sirius said, smugly. “Aren't I just simply dashing?”  
“And big headed,” Remus offered reproachfully. “But that was very sweet.”  
“No point in two men keeping a woman's scarf, unless they're going to tie one another up with it...”  
“Shame, I would have liked that.”  
“Shit, hold these, I'll go and get it back-”  
  
Remus gave him a shove towards the underground entrance, and chuckled all the way down to the platform.  
  
***  
  
“She thought it was a joke,” Sirius said lazily, his toes curling as Remus worked his thumb into the ball of his foot.  
“Who?” Remus frowned.  
“The homeless lady who I gave the scarf to.”  
“What did you say to her?” Remus focussed on the perfectly straight lines of Sirius' toenails, afraid he would give too much emotion away with his eyes if he looked up.  
“I wished her a Merry Christmas and apologised that it wasn't warmer. Bit shit, really, giving someone who sleeps rough a silk scarf. A newspaper would have been of more use.”  
“She looked happy.”  
“When she got over the shock. I think she thought I was going to nick her begging cup.”  
“Well after your actions today I wouldn't put anything past you.”  
“I'm not a hardened criminal, for Morgana's sake. I've never stolen anything either!”  
  
Finally looking up, Remus saw Sirius sitting, a vulnerable look on his face, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. His hair was finally ruffled from all the times he had run his fingers through it.  
  
“Doesn't it frighten you?” Remus whispered fearfully, not knowing where the words were coming from. “That at any minute this could be taken away? That... that we might die?”  
“Remus, I've worried about you dying from the second I knew what you were. Every moon I spend the night wondering if you're going to come back to me. I always have.”  
“So what, you're saying you're hardened to it now? That it doesn't frighten you?”  
“It scares the bollocks off me.”  
  
Their eyes met and it was Remus' turn to blush.  
  
“Come here and kiss me,” Sirius commanded, in his way, and Remus went without a second thought.  
  
Their lips met and his lover tasted of the specially spiced winter Butterbeer they'd bought for a Saturday night at home together. He straddled the other man's legs and put his fingers to his shoulders. Sirius' arms laced around his waist and his fingers knotted together at the small of Remus' back.  
  
“Shopping was hell,” he muttered against Remus' mouth. “Don't make me do it again.”  
“All part of the journey... you realise this is our first proper Christmas together? That last year we weren't living together?”  
“Wonder where we might be next year?” Sirius mused, pulling Remus closer. “Wonder if we'll be doing this?”  
  
Remus said nothing. There was nothing that would make him ponder the future when the possibility of having none was entirely too probable.  
  
“Shut up,” he muttered. “And make up for turning me into nothing but a petty crook.”  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
